


Waculla / Mystery Waters

by DesdemonaKaylose



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Other, post chrollo/hisoka fight but disregarding the dark continent, shout out to Greed Island for blowing Hisoka's cover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesdemonaKaylose/pseuds/DesdemonaKaylose
Summary: Gon tracks down Hisoka to wish him a belated happy birthday.





	Waculla / Mystery Waters

**Author's Note:**

> for Anon. I didn't want to flirt with continuity lock-out, but if you've read "Peace on Earth", I think of this story as taking place some time after that.

When Gon looked up from his map, he was surrounded by neon fizzling in the red-tinted rain. He tilted his head up at the strata of bridges and windows that soared high up into the night, blotting out everything but the clouds which reflected red darkness back down at the earth. This isn’t what he had expected. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Something more flesh and blood, he supposed. The electronic district of Min-Chi Ho-Chi seemed like something out of a fever dream—otherworldly, if not quite frightening.

“Is this what they mean by a red light district?” he wondered aloud, folding away the map at last.

The arcade that stretched out before him took up five stories and a city block, wheedling and buzzing from every window as a thousand games all begged to be played. He’d tracked his quarry this far, but looking up at the building now… He wasn’t sure how he was going to find one person in all that light and noise. He wasn’t being immodest when he said that no one could match him for tracking in the jungle, where his keen nose and familiar eyes could tell the difference between a finch and a swallowtail at a hundred paces. This, though.

Gon straightened up, tightening the straps on his backpack. This would be a challenge!

The man at the door gave Gon a brochure in exchange for a few jenny, and Gon perused it with one eye on the passing machines. The first floor was dedicated to traditional arcade games, 8bit antiques and 1v1 fighters. There was a trivia bar at the back, and a karaoke room in the east wing. Up one floor were the multiplayer games, where you could be randomly assigned a group to compete with for cash prizes. The third floor was dedicated to gambling, with a whole swath of virtual poker and slot machines. The fourth floor was marked with a large 18+ for Hentai. Gon gave that page an uneasy, speculative once over. And the fifth floor…

“Mystery games,” Gon read, deftly ducking under the arm of a passing server whose platter was loaded with colorful bubbly drinks. His gut told him that was the place to go. What better place to find a mystery than in a mystery room?

Gon left the blue glitter of the first floor and exited the elevator onto the fifth floor, into a cool dimness. Rows of curtained booths extended into black nothing, each of them lit from the inside with a soft glow. It would be rude of him to open the booth of a stranger, just to see who was inside. He’d have to be sure. Gon read the titles over the heavy curtains—this one advertised violence and mayhem. Gon sniffed the air, testing it. There was a certain smell he was looking for, not as distinct as Leorio’s, but unmistakable once you knew it. It was the smell of old blood and sugar, floral and metallic, a smell that raised hairs on the back of your neck like ozone in an open field, the moment before a lightning strike.

He sniffed around the Mayhem game. Nope. But there was a faint tinge to the air, as if it had passed by here some time ago. Gon followed it deeper.

This game invited him to Catch a Killer. No. This game was a—no, not this one either. At last Gon found himself deep in the labyrinth, standing at the curtain of a game whose title card was simply the image of a lake covered in smoke, indistinct and ominous. Blood and nectar suffused the air. Gon lifted the curtain.

Hisoka didn’t look up from his controller, one leg neatly crossed over the other as he reclined into the booth’s many pillows. By the kaleidoscope light of the screen, Gon could see that he was outfitted in purple tonight, the edges of his clothes all glinting dark and orange. Even his nails caught the light in shades of tangerine, iridescent and sharp.

“Hello Gon,” he said. “I thought that might be you.”

Gon ducked under the curtain and took a seat on the floor, where one of the surplus pillows had fallen.

“I’m afraid this is a game that only takes one player at a time,” Hisoka remarked, even as his fingers flew over the buttons.

“That’s okay,” Gon said. “I didn’t really come here to play the game. What is it, anyways?”

“It’s called  _Recurrence,”_  Hisoka said. “It’s a puzzle game.”

Gon leaned back, taking his first good look at the screen. It was a blur of shifting images as Hisoka fit together some kind of pattern that Gon could make out neither the beginning nor the end of. One photograph appeared again and again, just at the corners of the images. From the flashes of decay, it seemed like Hisoka was trying to construct some sense of timeline.

“This isn’t really what I would have pegged you for,” Gon remarked, gaze fixed keenly on the screen now.

“And what would you have pegged me for?”

Gon frowned. “A murder mystery, probably. Or one of those fighter games downstairs.”

“Unfortunately, those aren’t challenging for me anymore,” Hisoka said. “I started there, when I was young of course. But once you work out all the combos it’s child’s play to close out the last level. Murder mysteries were fun for a while, but I always know who the killer is by the second cut scene. Narrative convention is predictable.”

Gon tapped his fingers against the floor. “What about Greed Island?”

At that, Hisoka did look away from the screen. It was only for a second, just long enough to lift one sharp eyebrow, and then he was back to his puzzle. “You made it fun. For a while.”

Gon blinked, and then grinned.  “So what  _do_  you play, then?”

Hisoka only lifted the controller, with the 'obviously' left unspoken.

“I mean besides this. There must be something you don’t get tired of. What do you like?”

Hisoka was quiet for a moment. His nails flashed in the darkness. “I’m partial to dating simulators,” he admitted.

“What?” Gon said, laughing. “You are?”

On screen, the kaleidoscope of images froze and collapsed. In its place, there was the foggy shape of a lake house, its windows reflecting back strange but indistinct figures. Hisoka hit a button, and suddenly all of it was swallowed by the Save Screen. He tapped in some user information and sat back, his relentless gaze falling squarely on Gon.

“Why are you here?” he said.

For a moment, the ozone sensation was overwhelming. It was more than nen—it was the very texture of the air, the smell of the moment, the color of the darkness. Gon looked up at Hisoka, perched and glimmering, and saw something beautiful and timeless in the shape of his legs, the curve of his arms, the color of his hair. Titanic and mysterious, a statue among ruins. He also saw someone who played dating simulators in a public arcade. He smiled. 

“I missed your birthday,” he said.

It wasn’t so much that anything about Hisoka moved, but the quality of his silence all at once was somehow changed. The ozone feeling dissipated. 

“You’re about four months late,” he said.

“I was on an expedition,” Gon said. “I felt bad about leaving but it was really a once in a lifetime opportunity. But I’m back now! And I wanted to be sure I made it up to you!”

Hisoka uncrossed his legs, settling into the pillows. He blinked slowly, like a cat. “Well then,” he said. “Why don’t you make it up to me?”

There was something deliberately inviting about the angle of his body, a mathematic precision that drew in the eye like the work of a master painter. Even the slight billow and fold of his clothing seemed to create an illusion of softness where no softness had existed.

Gon looked up at him. “You know, now that I know you play dating simulators,” he said, “I feel like you might be selecting dialogue options in your head while you’re talking to me.”

All at once, Hisoka crossed his legs again, cupping his chin in his hand as he turned his attention to the wall. It kind of seemed like he was pouting, but too self conscious to make a show of it. An unexpected flare of fondness warmed the inside of Gon’s chest.

“There’s really no need for you to concern yourself with my birthday,” Hisoka said. “I myself hardly notice its passing. If that was all you came here for, you can consider your task accomplished.”

Gon stood and held out his hands, outstretched and waiting. “They have boba tea downstairs. You should get a drink with me.”

Hisoka glanced from Gon’s smile to his outstretched hands, a look of delicate calculation. It never occurred to Gon that Hisoka didn’t need help up from his seat any more than he needed accompaniment on his birthday. It was simply the polite thing to do. And it was one more opportunity to feel that chill skin against Gon's own, a want that he neither questioned nor concerned himself with reasoning out.

“I suppose I could use a break,” Hisoka said.

 

They took the stairs back down, and because they took the stairs, Gon insisted on detouring through every single floor on the way back, demanding that Hisoka give him a tour.

On the fourth floor Gon flashed his ID at the bouncer and then immediately tried to sniff out which game Hisoka had last played. The scent had absolutely gone cold by then, but it was fun to try.

“I bet it’s one of the dirty ones,” he remarked, as they passed by a game that purported to contain at least one girl made entirely of slime. 

Hisoka gave him a Look. It wasn’t quite clear what that look was, but Gon was pleased with it anyway. His favorite thing was forcing Hisoka to deviate from the script that he set for himself. After a moment, Hisoka flicked a finger in the direction of one booth in particular. “I enjoyed that one the most,” he said.

Although some of the figures on the poster were female, there didn’t seem to be a single set of breasts or panties in the whole advertisement. Gon inspected it closely, but all he could gather from it was a general sense of colorful energy. It seemed innocent enough. Certainly not weird enough to be Hisoka's favorite.

“What is it that you like about them?” Gon said, finally stepping back from the poster. “You don’t seem like somebody who would be super into romance.”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Hisoka said. “I suppose I like getting to know the characters that the writers have developed.”

“Huh,” Gon said. 

When they finally arrived at the trivia bar, there was a game of jeopardy in full swing, the slightly drunken audience shouting along incoherently as the contestants rushed to fill out their answers. Gon soaked in the cheerful chaos and ordered a couple of bobas from the bar, pausing just long enough to get Hisoka’s order. The bartender gave the older hunter a nervous look (getting a little stuck on how big Hisoka was judging from the look of it) but the orders came out perfectly anyways.

“I like getting to know people too,” Gon said, picking out a booth in the quieter corner where they could sit in relative peace. He liked to be surrounded with noise and activity even if he wasn’t part of it, but it was also helpful to be able to hear yourself talk. 

Hisoka took a patient sip of his drink, just waiting to see where the conversation was going.

“Like right now,” Gon said. “I’m getting to know you.”

A cheer went up from the stage, and Hisoka leaned unconsciously into it like the showperson he was. His nails were purple now, the same autumn color of his shirt. “I suppose you are,” he said. 

Gon held out his drink. “You wanna try this?”

“Why are you so interested in getting to know me?” Hisoka said, narrowing his cat-yellow eyes.

Gon set his drink down at the center of the table. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Hisoka considered the glass between them as if he were inspecting it for poison. “Where did you say that last expedition took you?”

“Oh,” Gon said. “No, I’m not following a lead or anything right now.”

“Then what is it that you hope to gain from talking to me tonight?”

Gon pushed the drink a couple inches more across the tabletop. “Killua always says that you like me."

“And…?” Hisoka said, noticeably not denying it.

Gon leaned forward, forgetting the bar and the crowd and the games entirely for one bright moment, heart thumping happily in his chest. “And I think that’s interesting!”

Hisoka paused, for a moment, and then he carefully hooked his nails around the rim of the glass and pulled it the rest of the way towards himself. “A whim, in other words,” he said.

“Sure,” Gon said. “If you wanna put it like that.”

“How would _you_ put it?” Hisoka said, lifting the drink to his lips.

“Being with you makes me happy,” Gon said. “And a little scared, and a little confused, but lately, it mostly makes me happy.”

There was something indescribable in the stillness that came over Hisoka’s expression, something that made Gon think of caverns deep beneath the still surface of a lake, of water so clear that you could see the bones of a dozen drowned explorers, a fathom deep and so close it seemed you could almost touch them. Black sockets in a pale abyss.

“I wanted to see you,” Gon said. “That’s all.”

Hisoka set down the glass. “I see you’re as blunt as ever,” he observed. “I’m not sure how to feel about having that turned on me, now.”

“Do you still like me?” Gon asked.

Hisoka hesitated. He licked a drop of tea from his lip. “I’m afraid so.”

Gon grinned and sat back in his chair. “So that’s fine then.”

The caverns in the lake that Gon has spent the summer exploring had gone so deep, so far into the earth, that no one knew where they began. The local dialect had a word for the lake that only meant, “water from mystery.” Far below the heavy surface, on the sunlit cavern shelves, Gon had helped Morel gather up the bodies of long dead adventurers. As he had lifted their white skulls from the limestone, the water had filled with silt that bloomed and twisted up into the light and for no reason at all, he had thought of Hisoka.

He had thought of Hisoka as the sixth of June came and went, watching the sun pass high over head from the bottom of an endless chasm, and he hadn’t stopped.

It was complicated. Being with Killua was nostalgic and fun. Being with Leorio was relaxing. Being with his friends from the Chimera Ant Incident was a relief, all of them quietly sharing the understanding that they would never be able to speak of it to another person, an unity in their shared suffering and fear. But being with Hisoka was different than all of that. It made Gon feel important and desired, a feeling that he liked more and more each time he experienced it. He liked the way Hisoka’s eyes followed him across the room. He liked knowing things that no one else was brave enough to learn. He liked that ozone feeling, right before the lightning strike.

“Do that thing again,” Gon said.

“What thing is that?” Hisoka asked.

“The thing where you open yourself up. Like it’s a challenge.”

Hisoka considered him for a moment. And then, carefully, he rearranged himself in his seat, shoulder lowered just so, his body softened just enough to promise entrance. The suggestion of desire. His tipped his head away, throat bared, watching Gon from the corner of his eye.

“Well?” he murmured.

Gon’s heart beat fast. There was a hunger growing at the bottom of his stomach that he had come to know as  _want_ , and want was the beast he'd tracked to the surface of this endless cavern. Want was the light and the darkness and the water and everything between.

“What do people usually do, when you do that?”

“Usually?” Hisoka said, glancing upward in thought. “Usually they run away.”

Gon could almost taste the ozone in the air, the bar and the arcade falling to a dim roar in his ears. He sure wouldn’t do  _that_.

What Gon did, instead, was climb out of his seat and circle the table, pushing it gently away from them both. He settled lightly on the edge, calves almost brushing Hisoka’s knee.

“I’ve never played any dating simulators,” he said. “What happens next?”

Hisoka lowered his lashes, playful and ominous. “I have no idea,” he said. “I’ve never played a game with anything like you.”

Gon nodded thoughtfully. “Okay,” he said. “Could you please turn your head back towards me?”

Hisoka’s earrings caught the light as he shifted, black enamel and white reflection, ace of spades. When Gon leaned down to meet him, Hisoka opened his mouth and welcomed him in—like a carnivorous monster, like a cavern hungry for men to swallow up and keep. His tongue was sweet with caramel and menace. Gon went to it willingly, breathless and wanting.

When he finally came up for air, he was surprised at the darkness that had fallen over them. This close, Gon could just make out the preternatural smoothness of the false face Hisoka had made for himself, how it seemed to almost glow with the dying light of the projector, bloodless and ethereal. Gon was overcome with the desire to breathe warmth into it, but he had no idea how he would even try.

He bent down again and licked saliva from Hisoka’s bottom lip.

“Happy birthday,” he said, grinning at the way Hisoka’s features went still again with that familiar confusion, the uncertainty that he tried so hard to hide.

_But I see it_ , Gon thought.  _I see all of you_. 

 


End file.
